


Dreams of Mine

by Eighthofhearts



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (nothing graphic) - Freeform, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Character Study, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 13:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eighthofhearts/pseuds/Eighthofhearts
Summary: "Sometimes Caleb dreams of the end.The end of his story, his mission, his life. There has been a shift in the story’s trajectory over time, but for the most part, there was no happy ending to be found.There were times Caleb tried to foolishly trick himself into believing that things would be okay, that he now had a good purpose, one that would help people instead of hurting them. Then his dream would come back and remind him who he truly is."





	Dreams of Mine

Sometimes Caleb dreams of the end.

The end of his story, his mission, his life. There has been a shift in the story’s trajectory over time, but for the most part, there was no happy ending to be found.

There were times Caleb tried to foolishly trick himself into believing that things would be okay, that he now had a good purpose, one that would help people instead of hurting them. Then his dream would come back and remind him who he truly is.

While the way he met his end was not always consistent, one aspect was; he was never the hero. Valiance had no part in his death. He never went out in a blaze of glory or sacrificing himself to save his friends. He was always a coward or a fool, or both.

He never told anyone of these dreams, he thought there was no point. They were just dreams after all. Sometimes he would be tempted to tell Beau or Caduceus when he would rouse from sleep in a panic, either companion offering an ear to explain the troublesome images. He would just shake his head and try to go back to sleep. He usually did not fall back asleep.

It was not the image of his own death that bothered him, Caleb had long since detached himself from the idea of death being scary. No, he did not mind seeing his death, no matter how graphic or brutal, it was the aftermath that hurt. Hearing Jester’s wails or Nott’s anguish and anger, that was what got him. One reaction in particular, however, stuck with him.

Just like all the dreams that had come before, Caleb had fallen at the hand of some great foe, his body laying in tarnish and ash. But there were no cries, no screams. Silence. None of his friends were in sight. He was alone. There was no one there to mourn him. No, that was not the issue. His family didn’t know he was gone.

Caleb shot up at the thought, panting as he attempted to ground himself to the sudden reacquaintance with the waking world. Despite this dream that seemed to shatter him, the world that he fell asleep in still remained. The silence of the home made him feel somewhat secure, he presumed the others were still safely asleep in their rooms. One small, orange friend, however, was just in his line of sight.

Caleb leaned over and gave a soft ruffle to the sleeping cat’s fur, barely stirring the resting creature. He let out a deep sigh as he looked at the pleasant and grounding sight before him. It was just a dream.

Just like most nights after one of these dreams, Caleb had trouble falling back to sleep. He tossed and turned for a bit, feeling a fitful energy that just would not leave. It was not long before he gave in to the restlessness and retreated to the common room, book in hand. Thankfully morning came not too long after, and Caduceus was the first of the group to rouse.

The still sleep weary firbolg looked to his human friend with a smile, offering a simple “Good morning” as he let out a deep yawn. Caleb simply nodded back and watched as Caduceus walked off and went about his morning rituals, including preparing some semblance of a breakfast for the group.

As Clay began to cook, Caleb apprehensively crept to into the room, watching on as the other man worked. Caduceus acknowledged him and offered light chit chat, but Caleb simply wanted to watch him. That was enough.

Some time passed as Caleb watched on, neither him nor his friend ever saying a word. It was just as Caduceus was putting his finishing touches to the meal that Caleb decided to change the tone.

“Caduceus, can I talk to you about something?”

The firbolg looked up from his work station through a curtain of pink hair that he tucked behind an ear. “Of course, Mr. Caleb. Is something wrong?”

“Nein, well, not exactly,” Caleb responded, nervously picking at the hem of his shirt, “You seem like the kind of fellow that would know a lot about dreams, yes?”

“What kind of dreams have you been having, Mr. Caleb?” Caduceus replied abruptly. His curt response was not for lack of social grace, but came with the knowledge that it was sometimes better just to rip off the bandaid and get to the point.

Now being stared at head on by those big pink eyes and being asked just what he wanted to talk about, Caleb found himself at a loss for words. He felt uncomfortable meeting Clay’s gaze, and discomfort was not an easy thing to feel around someone as calming as Caduceus.

Before Caleb could make any flustered attempt at an explanation, he was stopped by a warm bowl being shoved into his hands.

“Here,” Clay’s soft voice began, “Get some food in you first, we can always talk later.”

Caleb looked down at the bowl of fairly nondescript in appearance food. It may have looked somewhat bland but it smelled delightful, and soon proved to be just as tasty.

One by one, the other members of the family known as the Mighty Nein began to wake. Each of them poured into the dining room of their new home, one by one. Nott took the seat beside Caleb, as she always had, but her interest was mostly geared toward the halfling on her other side. Caleb was fine with this arrangement.

Looking over the table, Caleb felt content. Not long ago, this group had all been strangers to him; just a lonely goblin in a prison cell or a bunch of hired muscle in a tavern. Now they were his family.

Now that everyone had their own bowls of food and were each engaged in some form of engrossing conversation, Clay joined them, looming for a moment in the doorway, bowl in hand. Caleb did not see him enter at first, but looked up after feeling the presence of eyes on him. Caduceus was looking his way, but not in judgement or examination, but simple acknowledgment. Clay smiled, he was happy Caleb was there.

Caleb was happy too.

Breakfast soon concluded and the lot dispersed, each off running their own errand or completing their own tasks. Caleb stayed behind and helped Caduceus clean the mess. A comfortable silence hung over the room. Caleb did not feel obligated to say anything about before, Clay’s gentle smiles told him that he would not prod for further explanation. He found this quite strange about the other man, if Caleb were in his shoes, he knew he would not be able to hold back in his array of questions. Caleb then decided it was best to leave Caduceus’s empathic abilities a mystery.

As the pair finished up cleaning, Caleb began to make his way back to his room to continue his reading.

“Mr. Caleb.” The familiar voice stopped Caleb in his tracks halfway up the spiraling staircase. Caleb looked back and saw Clay, somewhat disheveled from the work of the morning, staring gently back at him. Caleb was wide eyed, blinking pointedly and waiting with trepidation for some sort of judgement.

“I hope you found whatever answers you were looking for.” Clay flashed a simple smile before walking off towards his own ground floor room.

Caleb let out a huff of a laugh. He would never understand that man.

He continued back up to his room, finding comfort, once again, in silence, the only sound being that of Frumpkin’s soft purrs, which Caleb never minded.

The rest of the day progressed without much trouble, it was a slow day for the group, but they were thankful for this time to breathe. Caleb was more than happy to have spent the entire day in solitude, working his way through his recently purchased stack of books, but couldn’t help feel relieved when the group all joined together again for dinner.

Having these group meals was something he could get used to. It wasn’t like their mornings at seedy inns or drunken nights at a local tavern. No, this was just for them.

As everyone departed from the dinner table, aside from Clay and Fjord, who stayed behind to help clean, Caleb felt at peace. He may have just gotten into a “fight” with Beauregard over some nonsense or another, Jester and Nott goading the fight with cheers, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

///

That night, Caleb dreamed of the end.

This dream, however, felt different from all the ones he had in the past. He was not faced by some crazed demon or bloodthirsty foe, there was no danger in sight. In fact, he was once again in the safety of his home.

He recognized the room as his own bedroom, but it had been changed. He had not yet found the time to add any personal touches to the room, but the room he saw in this dream was teeming with life. Books abound on large shelves, art hanging here and there, but most importantly, a plethora of drawings and paintings of his family hung against the walls.

The room was occupied by a single person, someone Caleb did not recognize immediately but definitely knew. A human man, older, occupied the single bed against the wall. He appeared frail and somewhat gaunt, but not without life in his eyes. His long, grey hair was tied back to stay out of his face, a small pair of glasses rested precariously on the tip of his nose, and crinkly smile rest on his face as he read quietly. After a few minutes, he contentedly placed his book on his lap, staring ahead with his unmistakable piercing blue eyes. Time had changed a lot about the man, but Caleb knew those eyes.

The older man’s eyes scanned the dimly candle lit room, looking at both everything and nothing. This is a room he knew every inch of, having spent the better part of fifty years getting to know. His concentration was broken by the sudden appearance of his Fey friend, taken the shape of a somewhat ragged, but ever lively, orange cat.

His friend joined him on the bed, curling into a ball on the man’s lap. “Hello Frumpkin,” the old man greeted him with his soft Zemnian whisper, petting him as the cat got comfortable, “Thank you for joining me.”

Giving the room one last scan, the man smiled, a smile that Caleb had not seen in a long time. It was a truly happy smile. But it wasn’t just the smile of a happy man, it was the smile of a man at peace.

Placing his book on the bedside table, the man slowly readjusted, careful not to wake his sleeping friend, and laid down to sleep. As his eyes closed, the last image that he saw was of a drawing in a small frame on the bedside table, drawn so long ago and showing his family as they once were. While now a lot of them had been slowed by age, the love and passion he saw in that drawing still remained. His family was different but their love never changed. As he drifted off, his final thought was of his little found family and how much joy they had brought to him and, he could now confidently say without irony, how much joy he brought them.

This was an end he could be content with.  

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @Beyondthesunrise or @lesbeauan


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